Prongs the Patronous
by Amalynne Olivier
Summary: A time turner ends up in the wrong hands, James Potter's hands, his 6th yr. Mishap leads to madness when he skips a year too many entering the future and Harry's 3rd yr Hogwarts. Did Harry really see his father instead of the patronous?R&R!
1. McGonagall's Doubts

Disclaimer: Rowling is the brains, I am the copycat with an original twist. Just clarifying.

_A/N: Okay, this is probably going to be the next chapter to my fanfic, The Ever Secret Diary of Sirius Black, but I wanted to see how the idea would fly, so here goes. If you don't see me update, just check out my authored stories and click The Ever Secret Diary of Sirius Black (chapter 13), it sounds like a lot, but its all easy reading. Now ahoy ye matees! _

"The Potter boy with a time turner, Minerva! Can you imagine, you'd be putting the world in a devil's hands, you'd risk something like that?!"

It was early morning, and a dead freezing cold was making its way onto the school grounds. McGonagall sported her emerald earmuffs and struggled her gloves onto her hands, as she looked Professor Kettlewell unnervingly in the eyes.

"I have my doubts Galen, I do have them, but the boy does indeed have proof that he needs one. In a situation as serious as this, I insist a time turner be granted to James Potter."

Cold nosed and red faced, Kettlewell swelled, "Preposterous! I'll take it to Dumbledore-"

"I already did, he said the matter was to be left to the head of the pupil's house, that being me you know." McGonagall said quickly, short of breath from the biting autumn air. "I've written, and Potter should be receiving it tomorrow morning. For heavens sake Galen, stop looking at me like that! It's only for a few days, the boy will be monitored, have no fear."

Kettlewell scratched gruffly at his whiskered chin, "Fear? My fear is that Potter's little gang will get in on it, they always do! They've had you Minerva, sly Black got a hold of you with that angelic face did 'e?"

McGonagall narrowed her eyes and ignored Kettlewell's remark. "I've taught long enough to know when I'm being had, this is different!"

"They're tricksters they are, they've got other plans in mind. Your judgment in this case is-"

"You doubt _my_ judgment? Twenty years in this castle and you doubt _my_ good sense! If you don't remember properly, Tom Riddle was my-"

Kettlewell flushed slightly at the name, "No more Minerva, that's past. Its just... time is a delicate thing, in the wrong hands it's a danger. I don't doubt you, only the boy."

McGonagall nodded and took a sidelong glance back at the castle, noticing the hazy glow of a sunrise playing along the horizon. She took in a wavering breath and managed a faint smile. Her voice was hoarse as she spoke, "Albus has seen dark days on the horizon for quite a while. Time is what we need more of, and that's what Potter can give us."

Kettlewell's eyes widened, "But the Order-"

"Not here, Galen." McGonagall ordered crisply.

A rooster sounded from the hills below, marking the day had begun. McGonagall gave Kettelwell one curt nod and departed, with more doubts than she had had before about the Potter boy and his true intent for the time turner.

_N/A: Okay, so what's you think? If you like it, and are interested in reading more of this kind of thing, I suggest you check out my The Ever Secret Diary of Sirius Black. Takes place in Marauder years, sixteen year old Sirius, it's what you can imagine really. I was gifted with this time turner idea in chapter twelve of that fanfic, so thank you all! REVIEW, REVIEW! I INSIST YOU REVIEW! –Amalynne O'hara_


	2. Persuasion

Disclaimer: Like I really ever owned anything?

Oh and there may be a couple of errors in this thing, considering I didn't check it. It's pretty readable though, might be one or two typos.

N/A: I was inspired to write more, yes this might just be an add on to The Ever Secret Diary of Sirius Black, but I need to know what more people think about it, before I decide to stick this in as real twist to my fic. Should I make this a new story or a new chap? Your thoughts plz. –Ama

McGonagall had had her doubts, but they were soon overruled with some persuasion from Prongs. It meant his life and the life of his friends and even though he fantasized about altering the past, he knew his duty lay in the future, where a bespectacled boy with messy black hair such as his, was near death. Somehow he knew he had to save him.

James had had a vision, crazy as it sounds, he did. He had awoken not but two nights before in a cold sweat at having seen a blinding white light and at having heard a frail cry. It was a distant cry and it reminded James of someone, himself. "_He's here Lily, take Harry and run!_". Who Harry was, or why Lily was a part of the vision, James could only guess, but his own voice haunted his dreams and soon he could not ignore it.

The most profound of these dreams was one with a boy. Himself, he thought at first, but he knew he had never worn glasses. The boy was screaming something into the air, pointing his wand upward, shrieking with everything in him, "_Expecto-patronum!_"

A ghastly council engulfed the boy, James could no longer see him, but could hear the boy crying out the spell. James wished to help, he would have done anything to help, the boy was dieing, he was dieing and his patronous was failing. That's when the vision ended, and it frustrated James all the more. He would have shrugged the dream off, and put it behind him as the result of a swig too much of vehement vodka, but it was the boy that confirmed to him how very real and serious things were.

"I can't base your need of a time turner on assumption Potter!" McGonagall had informed him, when he came to her office early yesterday morning. "Users of such much have concrete evidence as to why they need one."

"But professor, what more proof do you need, I saw this kid, he was dieing!" James insisted, firmly.

McGonagall looked him over warily, suspicion in every line of her face. "You perhaps thought you saw him Potter, there were no eye witnesses to this account, so I cannot call it valid."

"Of course there were no eye witnesses!" burst James, flailing his arms up. "It was a dream!"  
McGonagall pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, and replied tersely, "Then that proves enough that you do not need one. Dreams are dreams, though your divination teacher may tell you otherwise, but I would not trust the judgment of Mistress Hasenbrook."

"I'm not taking divination professor, and that's besides the point! _You_ don't hear him, so you don't know!"

McGonagall's eyes flashed with something of shock. "Hear him Potter, what exactly do you mean?"

James looked down, unsure how to explain with out coming off as a loony. He was also a bit ashamed to be hearing voices in the first place. "Well it's just that he... professor what's a patronous?"

"Excuse me?"

"A patronous, what is it?"

"You know perfectly well what a patronous is, you covered that fifth year."

"What's the incantation though, professor?"

McGonagall didn't bother looking up but shuffled through a stack of papers and uttered, "_Expecto-patronum_ I believe it is, Potter, why?" When James didn't answer she looked up. "Why Potter?"

James' eyes were widened, his brain was doing clockwork, buzzing with a million thoughts at once. "Then that's it." He said quietly to himself.

"What's what?" McGonagall was beginning to fear the sanity of her pupil, fearful he might be a tad mentally ill.

"That's what he says, _Expectopatronum_ and he's pointing his wand at something."

McGonagall raised a single brow, "Sounds like a case of bad lamb shank to me, I'll take it up with the house elves, maybe it's something in the food."

James banged his fists down on her desk, furious that she wasn't taking him seriously. "I saw him, he was conjuring a patronous!"

"No _boy_ could produce a patronous, why it's never been done! That proves your dream is a falsehood right there. I doubt many teachers here could produce a patronous, let alone a child!"

"He was trying to anyway!"

"Listen Potter, you say you see a boy, in your dreams, who tries to produce a patronous and is somehow... dieing, however unlikely, and you seem to think that a time turner will solve things? However do you reason? How do you know it's to happen in the future, perhaps it happened in the past, and perhaps it didn't happen at all! This is ridiculous and I can see no reason to allow you permission to use one. Out Potter, I've had enough." McGonagall pointed to the door, but James did not move from his seat, adamant to have his way.

"I'll prove it." He growled, crossing his arms and looking grudgingly to the floor.

"Then please do and be done with it!" McGonagall fumed.

"You think dreams would tell me things like... the Order."

McGonagall's jaw dropped, and she recovered shakily, "What? W-where, Potter how on earth did you..."

"It's really not fair that you all should be fighting behind our backs, some of us would like to join-"

"We take no children," McGonagall said quickly, coming to her senses. "And if you dare speak a word of this Potter I'll..."

"Mums the word Minerva dear." Smirked James.

McGonagal pursed her lips, but ignored the comment. "All right Potter," she said dryly, "I'll hear what you have to say."

James smiled broadly, "Knew I could count on you!"

It was after this that James was granted the permission to possess a time turner, but for reasons that only he and McGonagall knew.

It was late afternoon, and a stag stood at the edge of the forbidden forest, watching the sun set, eagerly awaiting the moment when he would see the boy and the patronous...

So tell me your thoughts. –Amalynne O'hara


	3. A Glimpse

_Okay ya'll I'm sticking with this fic bcuz you said so, but I'm still partial to the Ever Secret Diary of Sirius Black (which I will be updating Nov 2nd or 3rd, either on of those days, finally). _

_A note to my reviewers: _

_Angela: I'll explain things for you, cuz I know my chaps for this are a bit awkward. 1st, James has this "vision" or whatever you want to call it, that he sees his son in (but he doesn't know it's his son), he gets this gut feeling that he has to save Harry and asks McGonagal for a time turner so he go into the future and save him. (Confusing, I know, but I got the idea at twelve o'clock at night and I don't suppose I was thinking clearly). _

_Hn: Wait and see, hee hee. _

_Black Slytherin Grl: A feel so warm and fuzzy inside that you reviewed my stuff. I really admire you as a writer and I feel so privileged to have you review, I can only try to compete with you (which I'd never dream of doing). _

_Dragonsgrl: You're so sweet! Thanx. _

Here you go...

Darkness fell and Prongs knew it was time. The stag morphed into a skinny black haired boy of sixteen and took a tiny hourglass that he had on a chain around his neck and shook it. His world swirled with colliding color, days passed liked seconds before his eyes, as he watched seasons fade into years and years into decades. The forest became darker, thicker, a hut appeared at the side of the forest and the lake shrunk in considerable size, a full moon rested in the sky, time had come to a stop. The hourglass in his hand shuddered and he knew he had reached his destination. Dumbledore had suggested ten turns of the hourglass, James suspected to have skipped about a decade or two.

All was silent and there was no sign of the boy, just the presence of warm summer air and a peaceful rustle of the trees. It was eerie, he felt half alive, half anywhere and the shock of having moved forward so many years put him in a frozen state. He nearly forgot why he had he ventured so far. He became aware of how crazy he had been to believe his own dreams, to answer the cry of a boy he doubted existed, and to believe he had the power to save him.

"What I would do to have Padfoot and Moony here." He lamented to himself as he watched the lights flicker on from the Gryfindor tower, wondering who might rest in his dormitory these days. Were boys of this age as light hearted as he? Had they come up with better schemes to match his mischief making? Were they better students? Did the sorting still sort, or was it replaced? All these questions bounced about James' mind as he studied the castle more closely. He marked the quidditch pitch was still up, same as it had always been, and that the astronomy tower was ever intact, and the womping willow... James craned his neck looking to the far end of the forest, a little beyond the stone hut. Yes, the willow was still there.

"Wonder if anyone knows what it's used for?" he mused, recalling Moony and the Maraduer's nightly excursions on the grounds.

James looked around impatiently, worried and unsure where to begin his search for the boy. "God Padfoot, wish you were here."

Just as he spoke, a great black dog bounded up from bellow the womping willow, James knew it only to be Sirius and blinked his eyes, disbelieving. He suddenly worried if he'd gone into the future at all, but the next thing he viewed dissolved his doubts. The boy from his dreams and two other students that he had not seen before followed after the dog. A figure, stupefied and levitating, floated out from under the willow, accompanied by a middle aged man with ragged robs.

James stepped back behind a tree so he could not be seen and listened in intently to the words of the very odd company. The black dog had grown into the form of a sullen faced Sirius Black, causing James' heart to pang. He didn't want to know, he wanted to leave, what he was seeing was disturbing him. Sirius looked awful, and by God what the hell was he doing back at Hogwarts twenty years after the fact? James would have eaten his shoe, if Sirius had come back to teach, but he certainly doubted it, judging the state of his apparel. James could hardly believe how horrid he looked, Sirius had never been gnarly before, and he looked so... weary and old. James hoped he died before he reached forty, aging was worse than dieing in his opinion.

Sirius was talking to the boy and... a lump was growing in James' throat, he wanted to burst out in tears and scream. The boy looked, talked, walked and was James with glasses. His name was Harry, he'd just heard that frizzy haired brunette call him it. And... was that tape around his glasses?

"Oy! The poor kid, what parent would let their kid go out like that?!" James thought. Then the thought came. What if he had no parents? What if... was that why Sirius was here? Was this Harry Potter? The urge to scream filled James once more and he felt light headed, leaning against the tree more for support now than for hiding. The great James Potter was fit to faint. Then he heard the thing that made everything worse.

Sirius was speaking. "Well... you're parents appointed me your guardian. If anything happened to them..."

"Oh my God, so I really am dead!" James shrieked within himself.

The boy was agreeing now, telling Sirius how he would like to live with him more than anything, something about his aunt. James was left to ponder more, sick at the idea of his own death.

"Are you insane?" cried Harry to Sirius. James jumped again. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

"You want to you? You mean it?" Sirius grinned brightly.

"Yeah, I mean it!" chimed Harry, and as swiftly as the joyous moment had come, it passed with a blood-freezing howl from the ragged robbed figure. The only werewolf James knew came to mind.

"Remus!" he screamed aloud, Sirius had screamed it too and so James was not heard. His first instinct came to mind, Prongs. He had to turn into Prongs or Harry would be dead, that floating person thing would be dead (if it wasn't already) and those other kids too, would be done for.

The mass of clouds that had been hiding the moon from view parted, and the form of Remus was contorting into a hideous, jeering beast.

"Leave it to me!" cried Sirius to the others, "RUN!" James watched the man turn to dog and tear at the fully transformed werewolf. His heart skipped a beat and before he knew it, he was Prongs, sprinting after Harry, unsure of anything in the world.

Harry and the toothy brunette were scrounging about the grass, screaming at each other. "Sirius, he's gone, Pettigrew transformed!" Harry yelled.

Padfoot, blood drenched and panting, took a glance at Harry and proceeded to attack the wolf, their battle drifting further into the woods. James was spilt, unsure where to go. He heard Padfoot's whimpering moan, and with out thinking twice, dashed into the brush.

The werewolf and the dog had lead their feud to the edge of the lake, and now Padfoot lay weak, and wheezing at the water's edge, in his human form. The wolf bared its teeth and made one deadly snap at Sirius chest, but was flung back with a swift hoof kick from Prongs. Sirius' lids flickered as he saw the image of Prongs, and then with a moan passed out.

Prongs kicked at the wolf again, sending it howling deep into the forest.

Then something happened. The warm summer air turned cold, frigid and every ounce of happiness with in him melted away. His very life felt on the strings of existence and he cared about nothing, was nothing. And then he saw it, the ghostly council, the dementors, hovering in for the kill. The cold made James shrink back into the trees, forgetting his best friend that lay near death by the lakeside.

The cold had brought Sirius from his swoon, and now he was crouched on all fours moaning as the dementors closed in, "_Nooo, nooo... please_..."

James heard the crumpling of brush behind him, and he turned his head to see Harry and the girl, but feet from him. Harry was white, draining of color as he viewed darkness engulfing every form of life.

"Hermione, think of something happy!" Harry yelled to the girl, raising his wand at the black mass above.

The words Prongs had been yearning to hear flew from Harry's mouth in a frenzied scream, "_Epecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum!_" he was screaming into the blackness, but his strength was failing, and with out warning, passed out the same as Sirius, awaiting death.

Prong had never felt so hopeless in all his life, and then the hourglass that hung around his neck began to shudder. A voice close to him was speaking, it sounded like his own... "Come on! Where are you? Dad, come on-"

It was Harry, and then it all made sense. If Prongs could have spoken he would have, but as a stag, the words did not come. He wanted to cry back, "I'm here, I'm here, it's me, I'm here!" but he could only offer intent watering eyes, that Harry could not see.

A long moment passed, the dementors were hovering over Sirius at the lake, they were going to kiss him, they were so close and Prongs could wait no longer, he would stop the hideous wretches, no one would take Sirius from him! Just as he began to charge, a white gleaming mist shot from Harry's wand as he mustered "_EXPECTO_ _PATRONUM_!" Prongs was caught with the mist, and a strong and powerful forced thrust him into the dementors, flailing them into the heavens. With the power of a god, Prongs cantered his hooves and made one more round for the remaining demons.

Harry stood at the other side of the lake, awestruck, his glasses fogging and his hair dancing wildly in a mighty wind. Prongs stopped and looked the boy over, taking him in, a pride surging, a happiness he had never known building in his bosom. With out warning the time turner began to shudder at his throat and the scene began to morph. The boy reached out desperately and Prongs mastered one low bow before everything was gone, and Prongs was back alone at he edge of the forest, in his sixth year at Hogwarts.

The air was cold, it was fall, no moon rested in the sky and he was alone. No one was there to hear him or see him, and so James cried, the masses burning his eyes. It had been so fast, so confusing for a boy of only sixteen. He had gone in and out of time, saved his own son, seen his own fate before he knew it and hadn't even the time to say good bye. The stag turned back into boy, and he leaned his head against an oak and gulped down the river from his eyes.

What had it all been? Why had the time turner forced him back? Was Sirius alive? No one would believe him now, not that they ever did. What would he tell McGonagall, Padfoot and Moony? He would tell no one. No one needed to know.

Caught in a great sob, someone tapped him lightly on the shoulder. He whipped around, his hazel eyes meeting light blue behind half moon glasses.

"It was time boy, you know any longer and Harry would have suspected it." Dumbledore said quietly, the stars on his flowing purple robs glowing in the moonlight. James couldn't help from grinning, even in his sadness.

"How did you know, I-"

Dumbledore held up a hand, "I have my ways of knowing James, but what you did tonight was... it was an extraordinary thing, and I think it's a step towards manhood, in fact I know it was." Dumbledore winked and held out his hand.

"Oh!" James took the hourglass from around his neck and handed it back to the headmaster. He blushed somewhat and felt a bashful pride for Dumbledore's words.

"I really did nothing professor, I don't even understand what-"

"Ahh, but the future is not meant to be understood dear boy, why if we could predict life, then there would be no point to live, now would there?"

Dumbledore studied James fondly for a moment, half smiling, eyes dancing with a boyish glee. "Sleep would do you best, I think. A cup of cider too perhaps, yes I give you permission to head to the kitchens, not that you wouldn't find a way on your own." Dumbledore winked again, and James smiled broadly.

"Off you go now."

James was pat on the back and directed back to the castle, where his thoughts drove him mad.

Later in bed that night he could only hope he had changed it, hope he was not dead, he would give anything not to be dead, for the boy with those tape secured spectacles and messy black hair like his own, a boy he hardly knew but loved more than any soul alive, Harry Potter.

The End.

_N/A: Sorry that was short, but there's not much I can write besides the patronous incident and that was really this story's purpose. Thanx for your reviews and again if you'd like to read more refer to Sirius' Diary. Love you all and if you have any suggestions for me to add more to this, plz tell me. Many thanks. –Amlaynne O'hara _


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